


thermometer + fever

by starrylizard



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fever, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: "Between you and the thermometer, I think I believe the thermometer on this one."
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	thermometer + fever

**Author's Note:**

> Flash fic written for prompt: "Between you and the thermometer, I think I believe the thermometer. "

“I’m fine,” Mac grumbled around the thermometer that Jack had unceremoniously stuffed in his mouth.

“No talking, let it do it’s thing,” Jack groused. He stood back, arms crossed waiting for the thing to beep and let them know that it had, in fact, done its thing.

Mac flopped back onto the pillows, thermometer still under his tongue, rolling his eyes as he went. He’d slept in, that was all. And besides Jack arrived early, so it wasn’t really fair play even. He might have been up and ready by the usual time Jack arrived. Maybe.

If he were honest, his throat was pretty scratchy and his nose was running and he was glad to still be under the covers because the house was _freezing_ this morning. He’d rolled to the other side of the bed to escape the puddle of sweat he’d woken up in just about the time Jack had slammed the door to let Mac know he’d entered.

_Beep_

Jack snatched the thermometer out of Mac’s mouth before he could get his arms out from under the covers to intercept and Mac huffed.

“103.1, hoss,” Jack stated. “No work for you.” Hovering above him, Jack was doing the frowny-eyed concerned look that meant he was having none of it.

“I’m fine,” Mac tried again, but then ruined any attempt to actually look or sound fine as the tickle in his throat set him suddenly coughing.

The room spun a little, and black spots dancing around his vision when he pried them open – when had they shut? He managed to slam his mouth closed on the coughing, feeling like he was choking for a moment before carefully breathing though his nose and swallowing down on what felt like a bunch of razors in his throat in an attempt to get the need to cough tamped down.

When he caught his breath, he found he’d flipped to his side, whole body shivering, and there was a warm hand running circles between his shoulder blades.

"Between you and the thermometer, I think I believe the thermometer on this one. Besides you’re the one that always quotes facts and figures and science. This. . .” Jack leaned across Mac to wave the thermometer in his face. “. . .is an indisputable fact, bud. End of discussion." 

Jack’s voice was full of gentle exasperation and Mac had to admit his protest had been half-hearted even for him. Right now, he really didn’t want to talk for fear of setting off another coughing fit.

Jack seemed to take the silence for agreement. The hand between Mac’s shoulder blades shifted and landed instead on Mac’s forehead, as if testing the thermometer’s reading the old-fashioned way, then swiped Mac’s sweat-soaked hair away from his eyes.

“Just stay in bed. I’ll be right back, okay.”

Mac nodded, feeling frustrated and defeated, but also comforted. He felt the bed shift as Jack stood up and left the room. 

Mac had almost drifted off again when the next coughing jag hit him. He’d curled in on himself, feeling as though his ribs were about to shatter from the force of it, when the bed rocked again. Then his big, gruff, softie of a protector was helping him to sit up against the pillows and drink some hot tea with honey and lemon and swallow down some paracetamol.

He should be complaining, he would be, but Mac found he didn’t have it in him to keep complaining when it was in fact helping. And Jack was right, facts were important.

When he fell asleep soon after, there was a cool cloth across his brow and, despite feeling like a mess, there was a gentle smile on his face. His overwatch was still on duty and things would be just fine.


End file.
